e rode back a few paces, flung himself from his horse, and staggered to
the ground in the bitterness of his anguish.

Carlos remained on the bluff, still gazing down on the Presidio. He
seemed to be maturing some plan. He could see the sentries on the
battlements, the troopers lounging around the walls in their dark blue
and crimson uniforms. He could even hear the call of the cavalry bugle,
as its clear echoes came dancing along the cliffs. He could see the
figure of a man--an officer--pacing to and fro on the azotea, and he
could perceive that the latter had halted, and was observing him.

It was at this very moment that Vizcarra had caught sight of the
horseman on the bluff--the sight that had so terrified him, and which
indeed was no illusion.

"Can it be that fiend himself?" thought Carlos, regarding the officer
for a moment. "Quite likely it is he. Oh! that he were within range of
my rifle! Patience--patience! I will yet have my revenge!"

And as the speaker muttered these words, he reined back from the bluff
and rejoined his companion.

A consultation was now held as to what would be the best mode of
proceeding. Antonio was called to their council, and to him Carlos
declared his belief that his sister was a captive within the Presidio.
It was telling Antonio what he had already divined. The _mestizo_ had
been to the fiesta as well as his master, and his keen eyes had been
busy on that day. He, too, had observed the conduct of Vizcarra; and
long before their halt he had arrived at an elucidation of the many
mysteries that marked the late Indian incursion. He knew all--his
master might have saved words in telling him.

Neither words nor time were wasted. The hearts of both brother and
lover were beating too hurriedly for that. Perhaps at that moment the
object of their affection was in peril,--perhaps struggling with her
ruffian abductor! Their timely arrival might save her!

These considerations took precedence of all plans; in fact, there was no
plan they could adopt, to remain concealed--to skulk about the place--to
wait for opportunity--what opportunity? They might spend days in
fruitless waiting. Days!--hours--even minutes would be too long. Not a
moment was to be lost before some action must be taken.

And what action? They could think of none--none but open action. What!
dare a man not claim his own sister? Demand her restoration?

But the thought of refusal--the thought of subt